Grouse Thicket thou bleeding piece of earth

He submerged and even as his head went underwater, his lips were still tugged upwards into a smug smile. Truth to be told, Sargent didn't want to die; he wanted to live, he'd always wanted to live. It was his alter ego, the soldier that had a death wish. But he knew that to persuade his two attackers to stop attacking him, he would have to do this, and as the air went out of his lungs and he shut his eyes tightly, the reality sunk in. There was a chance, a possibility, that the two girls did not have the curiousity he deemed that they had and that they would let him die, but even then, he did not struggle for his life, but went through with his plans. Like he always did.

But before Sargent lost conscious completely, he felt a pair of strong jaws clamp around his scruff and pulled upwards. His eyes shot open, only to squeeze shut almost immediately again. He allowed himself to be pulled up until his muzzle broke through the surface of the water. Sargent's jaws parted and he inhaled huge gulps of air, eyelids fluttering dramatically. Paddling furiously, he blinked, still panting, and met his rescuer's gaze with his own cool green ones.

"What do you want to know?" the corner of his mouth twitched upwards, but his eyes, usually dancing with malicious mirth and mischievousness were dark and shadowy, hiding a secret within their depths.